this is my dilemma, you know:
you remind me of velvet,
crushed, and redolent with the years–
sex in sexy places,
the ruination of the innocent;
the dishabille of the morning after,
gazing blue-eyed/brown-eyed at
nameless somethings taken from nothings
for a night’s something else.
you remind me, too, of…
well, rain. You know,
the way it enters the day so abruptly,
and vanishes in a saturated breath?
the way you know it’s coming, yes,
but even as it arrives never find yourself quite prepared?
you came rolling in on the thunderclouds of my fetishes
and rained a pleasure so succinct it severed me. Utterly.
and now as you drift my fingers are furled,
my heart is wound into a knot like a tumor– its cancer being unrequited,
apologetic love for someone so hard and cold that
when I touched your reflection expecting it to waver,
you shattered instead.